


Sketches

by CaspianTheGeek (DemonicGeek)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Historical, Hurricane, It Will Be Okay, Kisses, M/M, Near Drowning, No beta we fall like Crowley, Nonbinary/Nonbinary, Other, Post-Apocalypse, Probably Historically Inaccurate, Sauntering Vaguely Grammarish, These two always get a happy ending, more pine than a forest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23936044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonicGeek/pseuds/CaspianTheGeek
Summary: "Aziraphale wondered what the demon had been keeping safe for what looked like centuries if the binding was any indication. He carefully opened the book to the first page.He gasped and had to keep himself from dropping it. It was just a simple drawing, really. But there was no denying he was looking at a drawing of himself. Judging by the outfit, it would have been around the 15th century.Aziraphale wondered if he dared look further, but Crowley had told him to help himself to anything and specifically pointed out this closet. Aziraphale closed the book slowly and then carried it to the couch he’d been sitting on with Crowley.He opened the book in his lap again. He was smiling in the sketch. He carefully turned the page."We're going to start with a historical flash back before jumping to the modern age, and what exactly Aziraphale is looking at.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	Sketches

**Author's Note:**

> This is in the tags, but I'm going to CW here again for hurricanes and near drowning. *They will be fine* but please read with caution or skip out if these are triggers for you.

**1667, Near Jamestown**

Crowley ducked into the inn eyeing the river just beyond it. He’d wanted to get away from the docks and the noise there, and really the city itself. He was on the outskirts now, but there was a storm coming and he wasn’t in the mood to be out in it. He’d tolerate the humans company for an evening if it meant staying dry.

His eyes cast about the room. It was gratefully mostly empty. The innkeep seemed to be cleaning up rather than putting food out, deciding that the weather would keep most of the travelers away. There was only one other patron in the room, facing the other direction.

Crowley’s eyes fell on blonde curls. He’d recognize that hair anywhere. He wasn’t sure if this would complicate things, he was sure the angel wasn’t supposed to know he was pirating on the high seas. He didn’t care. He’d give in to any complications with an evening spent with the angel, it’d been too long.

The innkeep seemed to finally notice him and spoke. “I’ve got some dried meat, cheese, and bread if you’d like. Will you be needing a room for the night?”

“Please.” His eyes weren’t on the innkeep, they were on Aziraphale as he spoke. He watched him stiffen, and start to turn.

He crossed the room to the innkeep, pulling some gold from a pouch at his hip as he did so. He waited patiently, not turning back to the angel, while the innkeep put some food onto a wooden plate for him. He smiled his thanks, and asked if there was any wine. He put another gold coin on the counter that would have more than covered an entire cask.

The innkeep’s eyes widened, but he told him to wait a moment, he had just the thing.

Crowley watched him walk away, and turned. Aziraphale was facing him now, his face lit. Crowley felt something inside him melt staring at the angel, and then he was crossing the room, putting his plate between them just as close to Aziraphale as to himself.

“Didn’t expect to see you around these parts. Here for a quick miracle?” Crowley smiled as he sat.

“More a long term project. That’s why I didn’t check to see if you were available. They want a full report on how the colonies here are doing.” Aziraphale eyed his plate, an eyebrow raised.

Crowley broke the bread in two, and split the cheese. He held out half. Aziraphale took it and began eating with a smile.

“Yourself?”

“Full report requested on piracy. You wouldn’t believe this lot, angel. Did tell you I’d be away for a bit though. Been a rotten year.”

The innkeep came back out, putting two bottles of wine on the table. “This is a special vintage. Not one of the new upstarts, but an older vineyard that knows how to properly age their wine. Please, enjoy. And sir, the key to your room. Number two.” He laid a key on the table next to the wine.

  
Crowley nodded his thanks. The innkeep turned, locking the front door then disappearing presumably to his own rooms.

Crowley turned back to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale was staring at him, and Crowley wondered if the look in his eyes really was as wistful as he thought. “I’ve missed you. Been what, six months since we’ve seen each other last? Quite a while these days for us to have not caught up.”

Was a time Crowley thought, when six months would have been nothing. A blink in the eye between meetings. When had that changed? He was grateful it had. “Missed you too, angel. To being together?” He opened the wine and held it out to Aziraphale. There were no cups.

Aziraphale took a slow sip of the wine then handed it back to Crowley who followed his example.

They caught up with each other. Crowley complained about pirates and their lack of appropriate flair, Aziraphale vented his frustration at the attitude of the colonists. The wine was very good. Perhaps that’s why neither noticed that it was quickly disappearing. Or perhaps it was because it was that Crowley followed Aziraphale into room one that evening.

He was vaguely aware that the rain was starting in earnest outside. The door clicked shut.

Aziraphale was standing there, and then he opened his arms. Crowley was in them an instant later, curled against the angel. Touch. He’d missed this touch, more than anything. He felt Aziraphale relax underneath him, breathing deeply.

Aziraphale kissed the top of his head. “I’ve missed you. Anyone watching?”

Crowley closed his eyes. All he could feel was storm. It was a big one. He felt a moment of worry, then he let it go. He was here with Aziraphale, what could go wrong? “No, no one.”

Aziraphale sighed and pulled him back on the bed, never letting go. They stayed curled up, occasionally whispering stories. Sometimes Aziraphale shared passages he’d found from new books. Mostly they simply soaked in the time together, knowing it would end far too soon and they would need to part.

When morning finally came, it was clear neither was going to go very far.

\---

They both knew morning had come, but it was still so dark. The building was beginning to shake with the wind. For the first time, Crowley wondered if it may collapse with them inside it.

“Storm’s bigger than I thought it was going to be.” He muttered, not quite ready to let go of Aziraphale.

“Mm. I’m rather glad you’re here rather than on one of those tiny ships.”

Crowley shuddered. Not that he minded sea travel as a general rule, but being on a boat in a storm was never enjoyable and this one-

The building seemed to quake. Crowley reluctantly let go of Aziraphale.

“Do you think it may be safer outside somewhere?” Aziraphale frowned as he let go of Crowley.

Crowley crossed the room to the window. When he looked out for the first time he felt his stomach drop. “Angel, you’re going to want to see this.”

The river he’d seen overnight had risen. And it was moving quite a bit faster than he liked. More worrisome, it looked like the water level was actually at the inn. Aziraphale’s hand was on his shoulder a moment later, looking out.

Aziraphale’s voice was strained. “We need to get out of here.”

They’d both seen what floods could do enough times.

Crowley crossed and had the door open and was headed down the stairs. There was about a foot of water, he didn’t pause but began splashing through it. He heard Aziraphale following.

Crowley wasn’t thinking. He should have known better, did know better. Still, he stepped outside not thinking and realizing he wasn’t stepping into the non-moving water that was inside. He was stepping into a river.

And just like that he lost his footing and was sliding. He heard Aziraphale shout his name over the sound of the wind, but he didn’t have time to concentrate on it. Water was everywhere, and getting deeper by the heart beat.

Crowley knew he didn’t necessarily need to breathe. It still didn’t mean he enjoyed the feel of water in his nose and mouth as he tried to yell out for Aziraphale and was plunged deeper into the water by a rogue wave. His brain had enough power to process he must have been dragged out to the main river. It didn’t have enough power to process the myriad of miracles he had at disposal to get himself out of the situation.

Something in the water smashed into him and pain began radiating outwards. He cried out. Water. More water, everywhere there was more water.

Another smash. If the water didn’t discorporate him, his wounds would if he didn’t get out of this. He tried to make himself think. He fought to swim to the surface. Tree. There was a tree floating and he was going to-

He smashed into it. He was aware that he definitely at least had cracked a rib or two but he held onto the tree, hoping against hope nothing would smash into him from behind. He knew he should start climbing onto it, just in case something did. Then he felt a hand clench around his wrist.

He let go of the tree as he was pulled upwards and then he felt Aziraphale pulling him in close. Warm, the angel was so warm. Crowley hadn’t realized how cold the water was until he was shivering against Aziraphale’s chest.

He didn’t try to understand or plan anymore. He was in Aziraphale’s arms. He knew he was safe. Crowley let himself rest, despite the stinging rain and wind. Aziraphale was murmuring something to him he couldn’t quite make out above the wind.

“Can’t hear you, angel.”

Aziraphale glanced down at him. “I’m looking for a cave.”

Crowley just nodded.

A few minutes later they landed on thankfully dry land at the entrance to what could barely be deemed a cave, but it would have to do. Crowley crawled in first, followed by Aziraphale.

Aziraphale sat, his back to the cave, wings still out, shielding any rain or wind from entering Crowley realized. Then Aziraphale was reaching out to him and Crowley leaned back over into the angel’s arms.

“You’re hurt.” It was a statement, not a question. But there was concern behind it. Then Aziraphale’s hands were gently touching him and Crowley felt a small shock at each burst of divine energy healing him. His ribs were first. Then his leg. He hadn’t even noticed the long gash on it. Then his wrist. He hadn’t realized that it’d been injured when Aziraphale had pulled him from the water.

The pain removed, Crowley found himself curling tighter into Aziraphale’s arm. Then he noticed the ruffling in Aziraphale’s feathers as the wind hit them.

“Your wings, angel?”

“They’re fine, dear.” Aziraphale tightened his grip. “Do be more careful though. I thought I was going to lose you, and last time you were discorporated it took two decades for you to make it topside again.” His voice cracked at the end.

“‘Course, angel. Just a simple mistake. Won’t step into any other flooded rivers.”

Aziraphale laughed softly. And the two waited while the storm raged outside. Aziraphale’s hands carded through Crowley’s hair from time to time, as if to remind himself he was still there, and still safe.

Just before sunset, all grew quiet outside.

“Is it over?” Crowley sat up, looking at the angel. 

Aziraphale tucked his wings in and began to move outside. A soft oh left his lips.

Crowley followed and stared up at the sky. Everything was silent and still, and it had an almost yellow sheen to it. But looking up there was a portion of pure blue sky. A hole in the middle of the storm.

“We could fly right through it.” Aziraphale mused.

“Would that we could just stay frozen right here forever.” Crowley whispered. “Our own little bit of peace.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I can’t picture you staying in that cave forever, my dear.”

Crowley turned to stare at him. He debated briefly how honest to be. Then he was speaking before he’d fully decided. “Angel. Aziraphale. If it meant staying with you I’d stay in that cave. Or anywhere. So long as you were there.”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale’s voice was soft.

Crowley turned and looked up at the sky again. A moment, just a pause in the middle of the storm. Something that could never last forever. “Aziraphale, what are we?”

“An angel and a demon.” His voice was cracked.

“Is that all?” Crowley’s voice was near whisper.

He heard a soft noise and looked over to see Aziraphale’s wings out, stretching, almost reaching. He let his own manifest as he looked at the angel. Aziraphale’s eyes met his own.

Then Aziraphale was taking a step forward, and his wings were moving to match Crowley’s, to brush gently against them. Crowley shivered, but before he could process the feelings of Aziraphale’s wings overlapping his own, Aziraphale’s hand was on his face.

Aziraphale stared at him for a moment, measuring he realized. Making sure it was alright. Crowley nodded, not breaking eye contact. Then Aziraphale leaned in and for the first time their lips met.

Crowley’s arms came up, wrapping around Aziraphale and pulling him closer. He didn’t know how long this kiss would last, but he had no plan to let go. Then Crowley gasped as he felt Aziraphale’s tongue brush his lips.

That was all it took. Aziraphale took full advantage of the parted lips and deepened the kiss. Crowley held on.

Neither needed to breathe really, but they still tried in pauses as they kissed. Neither moved from the others arms, wings wrapping tightly around each other.

And then the wind began to pick up. Crowley was the one to pull back first, much as he was loath to. He didn’t let go but he nodded towards the sky. “Storm’s back.”

Aziraphale brushed his face gently once more. His voice was subdued. “Maybe one day we’ll make it to the other end of the storm.”

And Crowley understood. They both stole their moments, but they lived in the storm. And Heaven and Hell were far more dangerous than any hurricane.

He followed Aziraphale back into the cave, this time using his own wings to shield them. They rested, Aziraphale’s head in his lap and his hands tracing through the soft curls.

A day later when the storm finally blew past, it seemed almost ironic how sunny it was. Aziraphale mentioned he’d be needed to help in the town and Crowley said he’d best check in with the pirates he was supposed to be watching.

Neither mentioned they were holding hands until they couldn’t any longer.

\--------------------------------------

**The Night After the Apocalypse**

Aziraphale could tell Crowley was struggling to sit up on the couch. It had been a long day for both of them, but Aziraphale wasn’t used to sleeping. Crowley was.

Neither had let go of the other’s hand since they’d gotten on the bus. Aziraphale had puzzled through the prophecy before they’d even reached Crowley’s flat really, but it had taken the intervening hours to convince Crowley that the body switch was a good idea. He knew Crowley still wasn’t fully on board, but he was on board enough to agree.

Now he was struggling to sit upright as Aziraphale watched.

“Crowley, my dear, would you like to get some rest? We’ve probably got a few hours at least.”

Crowley’s eyes dragged up to his, searching. Aziraphale wasn’t sure what he was searching for, but he wanted to tell him he’d give him anything, everything.

“Yeah, angel. Gonna go sleep a bit. Wake me up if you need me?”

“Of course, my dear.” He wouldn’t. He was more than capable of entertaining himself for a few hours. 

Crowley waved his hand. “There’s some books. Closet next to the plants. Help yourself to anything, angel.” And then Crowley was staggering to his feet.

Aziraphale stood almost rushing forward to support Crowley as he wavered on his feet down the hallway. But he didn’t know if Crowley would appreciate the unexpected touch, and then he was opening the door into his bedroom, and Aziraphale didn’t want to trespass there without an invitation.

Instead he turned and walked towards Crowley’s plants until he saw what he thought was the closet. He slid the door open slowly. There were more books than he’d expected. There was a unique, rotating shelf display. Aziraphale smiled as he took them in.

There was an entire section on astronomy. Aziraphale let his hands trail over those, and smiled at his star maker watching the humans document his stars. There were books on plants and oddly enough, snakes. Aziraphale wondered about that and made a note to ask Crowley later. He was sure Crowley would deny it if asked, but there were quite a few romantic books buried in with the rest. Aziraphale trailed his hands lightly along their spines. He wondered if Crowley ever read them and thought of him as he so often had of Crowley.

Finally, he noticed an older book that instantly caught his attention. He gingerly pulled it from the shelf, careful in case it was not in the best of condition. He needn’t have worried. He noticed almost instantly Crowley must have been caring for this book for a very long time. It was imbued with some sort of miracle that was preserving it well.

Aziraphale wondered what the demon had been keeping safe for what looked like centuries if the binding was any indication. He carefully opened the book to the first page.

He gasped and had to keep himself from dropping it. It was just a simple drawing, really. But there was no denying he was looking at a drawing of himself. Judging by the outfit, it would have been around the 15th century.

Aziraphale wondered if he dared look further, but Crowley had told him to help himself to anything and specifically pointed out this closet. Aziraphale closed the book slowly and then carried it to the couch he’d been sitting on with Crowley.

He opened the book in his lap again. He was smiling in the sketch. He carefully turned the page.

The next sketch filled both pages. It was a forest. He was walking with Crowley. Their hands weren’t quite touching, but they nearly were. Aziraphale remembered that day fondly. They’d walked together quite awhile and had a rest near the lake. It had been peaceful.

He turned the page again and found himself at the Bastille. Crowley really shouldn’t have known what his outfit looked like from behind unless- And Aziraphale smiled and wondered to himself how long Crowley had watched with a time stop in place. He’d tried to catch the frills and details of his outfit, and had really done beautifully.

The next sketch was the first one in color. It was just Aziraphale’s eyes. Aziraphale nearly choked at the color and expression. He hadn’t realized he’d been giving so much away, had looked at Crowley with so much love. How could he not? Did Crowley know, then?

He turned the page, hoping there’d be another sketch of Crowley. Sometimes Crowley was included in the drawings, sometimes he wasn’t. He never quite drew his own eyes correctly, Aziraphale mused. They were more golden than yellow.

He smiled as he saw a sketch of Crowley with chocolates in the regency era. He remembered that day well, and he was so grateful to his demon for his actions. They’d both had a scare then with the thought of Heaven recalling him.

Aziraphale turned the next page and his heart broke. There they were. The night after the chocolates. Crowley’s lips, soft on his own. His hand came up to his mouth instinctively. But the gentle kiss was scribbled through. In pain? In anger? Aziraphale wasn’t sure. He stared at the kiss that had never happened.

He looked closer and noticed what appeared to be a spatter, as if something wet had dripped onto the sketches. He brushed his finger over it and felt overwhelming sadness. Tears. Crowley had cried. Of course, this would have been just before their conversation about the holy water. Aziraphale’s only regret in the time he’d known Crowley, the only time he hadn’t trusted him enough. The angel let out a soft sob.

There was a thud and then a yell. “ANGEL! AZIRAPHALE!” Crowley was half running, half stumbling. He was still in his pajamas, his eyes wide with fear. His eyes found Aziraphale and Aziraphale watched as the fear dissipated. “You- I felt-” Crowley took a shuddering breath. “Are you alright?” Crowley’s eyes widened again as he took in the book on Aziraphale’s lap. He staggered forward.

Aziraphale didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t find words. How do you tell the being that you’ve loved for millennia that you love them? How do you apologize for ever not believing them? For making them wait so long? Another soft sob escaped his lips.

Crowley sat down next to him, glancing at the book. He took in the page and a soft oh left his lips. “Aziraphale, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have presumed to… it’s just… I don’t expect anything from you and….” He trailed off, not quite making eye contact.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale waited, hoping Crowley would look at him. “Crowley, please look at me.”

Crowley dragged his eyes slowly back to Aziraphale’s face, finally staring into the angel’s own eyes.

“Crowley, are you under the mistaken impression that I’m bothered by the content of these sketches?”

“Aren’t you?” Crowley’s voice was small.

Aziraphale felt an ache in his chest. He’d made him wait so long. He’d made him doubt. “Oh, Crowley.” He paused searching for the right words. “I only wish you’d told me, though I was too much of a coward to say it myself. No, Crowley. I don’t mind you thinking of kissing me again. I was sad you destroyed them. Sad I pushed you to that. Sad I made the mistake of not trusting you, that I hurt you. I am so, so sorry.”

Crowley was silent.

“Crowley, what I’m trying to say. What I should have said so long ago.” Aziraphale took a breath and found himself looking away now. He looked back, finding Crowley’s eyes. “I love you, Crowley.”

For a moment, Crowley didn’t say a word. Then he reached past Aziraphale and Aziraphale wondered if this was too little, too late. Even today Crowley had begged him to run away with him and he’d turned him down in favor of Heaven, when had he ever made the right choice.

Crowley was reaching for the book, surely to take it away to explain it was something else entirely. His hand fell on the book lightly and Aziraphale was sure he would snatch it from his grasp. Instead he just turned the next page.

Aziraphale looked down. It was the two of them, standing together in the rubble outside the church in 1941. Their hands were brushing over the top of a bag containing some of Aziraphale’s most treasured books. In the sketch, Crowley’s back was to them but Aziraphale saw his own expression. He saw the shock and love there.

Crowley turned the page again. The next page was them kissing in the rubble. Crowley’s hand on his cheek tenderly.

Crowley’s voice was soft. “I love you too, Aziraphale. Have for a long time. Just didn’t know how to tell you that. Didn’t want to scare you away. Didn’t want to lose you, especially not after…” He paused. “Didn’t know if I could stand to lose you again. To have you hate me enough you’d leave.”

Aziraphale put the book gently down on the table in front of them and turned to Crowley. He brought his hand up slowly, caressing Crowley’s cheek. “I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want them coming after you because I made the mistake of falling in love with you.”

Crowley’s breathing stopped, then started again. Aziraphale waited.

“I would very much like to kiss you now, if you’d like?” Aziraphale waited. He’d give Crowley all the time he needed to make a decision. He certainly wasn’t going to press, not after what-

He’d forgotten how fast Crowley could move. One instant Crowley was staring at him, measuring. The next instant it seemed his lips were on Aziraphale’s. For a moment Aziraphale paused, and then he found himself kissing back. His hands pulled Crowley closer, until he was nearly sitting on his lap. Holding on, desperate to not let go. He never wanted to let go.

Crowley wrapped his arms around him before he broke the kiss with a gasp. And then he was kissing Aziraphale again, but this time it was his cheek, his nose, his forehead, any portion of him he could reach. And he kept whispering how he loved Aziraphale, adored Aziraphale, how he never wanted to let go.

Aziraphale raised his hands slowly, placing them on both sides of Crowley’s face and gently stopping the frantic kissing. For a moment he saw the panic in Crowley’s eyes and vowed he’d find a way to help Crowley be comfortable in this. For now he stared into Crowley’s eyes.

His voice came out as barely more than a whisper. “You have the most beautiful eyes, my love.” He felt Crowley give a shudder at the name. “I love you. I have loved you, so very long. You will always have my love.”

Crowley let out a whine and Aziraphale leaned in, pressing their lips together again.

This time when both pulled back both were trying to catch their breath, Aziraphale’s eyes glanced at the book. Crowley gave a soft laugh and he pulled it over.

This time Crowley turned through the pages, pausing on his favorites. There were years of sketches. One was a simple wine glass in a bookshop and Aziraphale felt his heart give a lurch at it’s loss. But he knew the most important part was here with him still. He tightened his grip on Crowley. He whispered again that he loved him.

Crowley kept turning pages. The last sketch threw Aziraphale. It wasn’t a modern one and most had been in mostly chronological order. He turned his face to Crowley, questioning.

“Was doing a lot of reflection. Almost told you a few times how I felt. That was the first time I thought maybe you loved me too.”

Aziraphale’s hand gently traced the image of himself. He was standing in the eye of a hurricane. A brief circle of blue over his head, illuminating him while a storm raged in the distance.

His voice was strained. “I thought I’d lost you that night you know. I was terrified.”

“You saved me.” Crowley fell silent for a moment, staring at the sketch. “I’m scared, Aziraphale. I don’t want to lose you now.”

“Trust me, love. Trust Agnes. She knew what she was up to. We should prepare though, are you ready?”

Crowley looked into his eyes again, as if soaking in every bit of it he could. He leaned in and kissed him softly then pulled back. He nodded.

Aziraphale brought their foreheads together. “One last temptation. One last miracle. We’ve been playing each other’s parts for a thousand years now, love. Just one last time doing so. Be safe, my heart.”

Then he took Crowley’s hands in his own and felt the energy surge. When he looked up again, he was staring into his own blue eyes. But he felt Crowley underneath still. Crowley-as-Aziraphale pulled back, an expression was on his face Aziraphale was sure had never been on it before. Then Crowley was touching him and there was a swirl of black that settled on Aziraphale. Essence. Crowley was trying to mask him further. Aziraphale let some of his go and watched the golden sparkles settle over Crowley.

Crowley leaned forward, kissing his forehead softly. “I need to go. I’ll find you in the park at noon, like we planned.”

Aziraphale nodded, and despite all his reassurances to Crowley he fought to let go of the demon’s hands. He walked him to the door and watched as he walked away, spine straight and head high. Aziraphale slouched against the doorway. He hoped he was right.

\----------------------------------------------

**After the Ritz**

Aziraphale let the door to the bookshop click closed and locked it behind them. He turned to face Crowley and an instant later the demon was in his arms, kissing him. He returned the kiss joyously. They were here. They had managed to throw everyone from their trail. Finally, he was with Crowley and they were both where they belonged, together.

Aziraphale pulled back and Crowley let out a soft whine. He smiled. “It’s not that I’m against kissing you, my dear. But I wanted to show you something first, if you don’t mind?”

Crowley pulled back, eyebrow raised. Aziraphale reached up and placed his hands on Crowley’s glasses, waiting for a nod before gently removing them. His eyes were questioning, but not upset.

Aziraphale leaned in to kiss Crowley on the cheek before slowly pulling himself from Crowley’s arms. “Would you get some wine and meet me on the couch?”

Now Crowley looked suspicious, but he nodded and headed towards where he knew Aziraphale kept his wine.

Aziraphale went to the back room and opened the filing cabinet. From the back, he pulled the art portfolio he’d been saving. He quickly reshuffled some and then brought it back out with him to find Crowley pouring wine while he sat on the couch.

Instead of taking his normal seat, he sat next to Crowley, leaning against him. Crowley’s arm wrapped around him and he found himself nuzzling into Crowley’s chest softly.

Crowley whispered. “Wine, angel?”

Aziraphale reluctantly sat back, taking the offered glass. In exchange, he held out the small pile of art work.

Crowley’s eyebrows raised, but he opened the old case carefully. Then he smiled. The first picture on top was an angel, wing raised shielding a demon from rainfall. “How?”

“I’ve been carefully commissioning works for a while, my love.”

Crowley set his wine glass down and carefully looked through the pieces, commenting here and there. “The eyes, why are they always so golden?”

“You don’t see your eyes well, my dear. That’s what they look like to me.”

Finally he got to the last piece and nearly dropped it in shock. He snapped his fingers and his own sketch from the night before appeared in his hand. He laid the two side by side.

Both angel and demon stood, wings spread wide. Blue sky above them and a storm around them.

Aziraphale’s wings came out first, wrapping gently around Crowley. Crowley’s were just a heart beat behind. The wings rested gently against each other as the angel and demon closed the distance between them with a kiss.

Crowley pulled back. “You never did answer what we were that day.” He was smiling.

Aziraphale leaned forward, resting his forehead on Crowley’s. “Beings in love. Meant for each other. The calm heart within the storm that is this world.”

Aziraphale carefully miracled the art to his desk so he could pull Crowley in. Then he leaned in for another kiss.


End file.
